Memories
by Hahukum Konn
Summary: Cara learns about what Ultra does to some Tomorrow People Breakouts. Pre-series.


**Memories  
><strong>Chapter 1**  
><strong>

Disclaimer: This work of fan-fiction is not intended for personal profit. All characters utilized herein which are not creations of myself belong to The CW.

* * *

><p>John chuckled as he leaned in for a kiss, only to accidentally bump Cara's nose as the young couple unconcernedly moved towards the bed in the conveniently-empty deluxe hotel suite. Russell had managed to sweet-talk the night-shift receptionist into letting him see which rooms weren't being used, then passed on the news before disappearing for, as he put it, "a fast night starting in a hotel closet."<p>

Neither John nor Cara had been too eager for details, leaving Russell to smirk as he teleported away from the room he'd brought them to, which had led to the accidental nose-bumping, and a whole lot more after that.

But one side effect of the intimacy between John and Cara was that even as much as he guarded his mind and his secrets from her, in the throes of passion she'd sometimes pick up things. Things from his days in Ultra.

And that night—

Cara, straddling John, was practically purring as she luxuriated in their shared post-orgasmic bliss. John could feel her, body and mind, and let his head fall back on the pillow, letting her into his mind a bit more. Too late, he realized she was going to go deeper, not meaning to as his own mind had been insufficiently well-guarded. She suddenly gasped, her eyes flying open in shock.

"John!"

John knew what she'd seen. He heaved a sigh and muttered, "I wish you hadn't seen that; I _really_ wish you hadn't."

Cara leaned down as her brows furrowed in recollection. "Why was Jedikiah Price showing you this place that looked like a Hall of Horrors? I only got a few glimpses but it wasn't a dream, was it?"

John rubbed Cara's leg. "No. I'd screwed up. It was early times for me, you know. Still a teenager, still training. It was a simple rookie mistake, too. Basically I was backup on what should have been a routine pickup. Hang back, see if a Breakout was going to escape the building the back way. Only it was dark; the streetlight was out. And I wasn't sure; I was looking down the back alley, and – maybe I could've caught him, maybe not. But too late I realized one of the shadows was moving, and before I could raise the alarm, he did the teleport. I couldn't lie, either, because like two seconds later an Ultra agent barrelled into that back alley with a flashlight, realized what had happened, and bellowed at me for not being fast enough to stop the guy."

Cara carefully got off of John and lay down next to him on the bed. "What happened next?"

John looked up at the ceiling, not wanting to remember, but he didn't have a choice. "Back at HQ, Jedikiah gave me this look of disappointment. It was a long time since I'd ever felt I let him down, and I had no idea what was gonna happen. He ordered me blindfolded; I remember being stuffed into a truck." He looked at Cara. "I'd heard rumors; I wasn't sure if it was true, but I'd heard agents got killed for even minor mistakes, and I was starting to get scared, wondering if he was gonna do it to me – his own foster son, even."

John looked at the ceiling again. "Well, he didn't, obviously. But remember being taken out of the truck and brought to this hallway. The blindfold came off, and Jedikiah was about to lead me into this room."

John swallowed nervously. "I can still hear the screams sometimes."

Cara's sharp intake of breath made him look over at her again. "John, are you telling me—?"

"It's true. He took me into this dark, greenish-lit chamber, it was as big as a warehouse, practically. And there were twenty people, maybe more, all in their own unbreakable glass prisons." His voice fell to a whisper. "And I don't think any of them were sane."

"And in the middle of that room, Jedikiah grabs me by the lapel. Shakes me. I'm terrified; my mouth went dry. And he says just a few words: 'John, if you ever screw up again, I'm sending you here.'"

Cara's grey eyes, wide in horror, bored into his own. John reached out and clasped her hand, taking comfort from the strength in her grip.

She licked her lips. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but – did you ever find out what it was called?"

John nodded and couldn't stop the frisson of horror that travelled down his spine. "They call it The Citadel."

* * *

><p><span>Author Notes:<span> I'd always wondered why it was Cara, and not John, who decided to explain The Citadel.


End file.
